


Hold Me Close

by TazWren



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And so can Rey, Ben can be an asshole, Come dance with me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, House Swolo - Mistress May I, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Mixed Dance Styles, Redeemed Ben Solo, Soft Ben Solo, dance fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 00:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TazWren/pseuds/TazWren
Summary: After the death of his father, Ben Solo leaves The First Order to come dance for Rebel Studios - only to find everyone turned against him. Can Rey look past her prejudices to see him for who he is?Or, the Dance AU I never knew I needed!





	Hold Me Close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/gifts).



> Semperfidani prompted me, one fateful day, with this yummy video of [Patti Smith's 'Because The Night'](https://youtu.be/rL6Asey1Gpk), and the rest was history!
> 
> Becca, I hope this hits all your tropes! 😉

 

The strains of music, picked out by piano keys, fill the air in the studio. It's a song she's always loved—both the lyrics and the rhythm speaking to her—making her wish she had that with someone. She loves listening to it—loves dancing to it—letting her limbs mirror the moves that Cassian and she had picked out for the choreography, letting the rhythm flow through her, grounding her, making her live the song.

However, never has the familiar sound, counting off in her head, ever filled the space as it does this day, swirling around her as though to push her towards the man waiting against the mirrors across the studio from her.

He's never learnt the dance, she's sure of it. Yet, he's stepping out, promenading towards her, keeping time, his body held as sure as though the moves are muscle memory.

 

_Take me now baby here as I am…_

_Hold me close, try and understand_

 

As the throbbing vocals fill the space between them, he glides behind her, pivoting to a stop with his hand resting lightly on her hip, his opposite hand held out past her shoulder. For the length of a beat, she stares at his broad palm, topped with long, blunt fingers, her breath catching before she slips her fingers into his grasp, ready to step off at the next beat of music.

 

* * *

 

_Rey paused on her way out of the auditorium, her eyes caught by the dancer who made his entry onto the stage. She wouldn’t have expected a man of his size to move with the grace and flexibility he exhibited, but the flawless moves he executed, to the staccato beat of the modern composition he was performing, said otherwise. Mesmerized, she remained standing in the doorway, watching as his powerful limbs spun, jumped, and stretched in clean perfection, his shoulder-length hair moving in counterpoint to his moves, taking on a life of its own._

_“Peanut, come on. You don’t want to be standing around watching him.” Finn’s disapproving tone and his hand on her arm pulled her out of the building._  

_“Who was that?” Rey kept looking back over her shoulder, as though she could see right through the concrete walls to the force that had captured her attention._  

_“Kylo Ren. He dances for the First Order.” The stiffness in Finn’s tone finally breaking through to her, Rey turned around to look at her foster brother, seeing the cloud of anger in his eyes._

_“Did he do something to you, Finn? What happened?” She rested a hand on his arm, stopping his march._

_“Not to me.” Finn looked at her meaningfully. “That’s Leia’s son.”_

_Oh._

 

* * *

 

He spins her out and back in until she rests with her hand against his broad chest. She should be paying attention to the beat, but for some reason can only think about the warmth seeping through his shirt, the steady thud she can feel under her palm as she looks up into his hooded eyes. His hand rests lightly against her back, his fingers thankfully tapping lightly to signal the countdown she’s almost sure to miss. As the music changes they move as a unit, swiveling about each other as they cross the floor. With every step she grows more aware of his body, its firm lines in teasing contact with hers.

Even though they’ve never danced this, or any piece, together she moves with confidence — a mirror of his own. In his arms she feels… safe… not just that he won’t let her slip or fall, but that he won’t let anything happen to her even outside of the complex sequence of steps. Surprised at herself, she can’t help but search his eyes, looking for whatever makes her so sure. He’s looking back at her in that quiet way he has, the way she’s noticed he's been looking at her in the past weeks.

As he dips her, he continues to hold her gaze, his eyes steady though his breathing is anything but. Before she can process the thought, though, he’s snapping them back up and her quiet gasp feathers across his lips. For a moment they pause—letting the melodies swirl about them—as they remain arrested in each other. 

 

_Come on now try and understand_

_The way I feel when I'm in your hands_

 

* * *

 

_Cassian surveyed the team standing in a loose arc around him, the lines of his face tired, maybe even a little grim. Waving a hand to call them in closer, he waited until the shuffling of feet stopped and a silence fell across the group in anticipation of whatever he’d called them in for._  

_“Some of you know that Leia has had a very difficult few months, and the past one especially so. Now, with Han gone, she’s asked me to make some changes with the way we run things here at Rebel Studios.” He paused to look each of the members of the troupe—_ _his team_ — _in the eye but he only saw faint sorrow on their faces._  

_“Rey. I want you to join me to lead the Jazz and Latin compositions.” It was not a question, but an acknowledgement of skill. With a startled look she nodded and then crossed over to stand next to Cassian, where he’d motioned her to._  

_In a daze, she listened to Cassian, with half an ear, as he called out the changing assignments and boosted people into spaces they didn’t think they were headed anytime soon._

_“Now, we have an addition to the team, to lead Contemporary and Ballroom.” The susurration that began at his words abruptly stopped at the sharp look he cast around the group. “Some of you may have seen him before, but I want you to forget about anything you think you know. I want you to welcome him into the group and be as open with him as you are with each other; give yourselves the chance to get to know him.”_  

_Rey exchanged confused glances with Finn and the rest. She didn’t know many folks beyond this group, but there was an ominous air to Cassian’s statement. Who would need this sort of ground-prep? As the question percolated, a thought suddenly popped into her head, making her catch her breath. The only person she could think of… was slowly walking out of the shadows by the doorway, his face expressionless as he came to stand next to Cassian and survey everyone, seemingly oblivious to the hard glares that were being thrown at him by almost everyone without exception. Rey didn't remember him having had that red scar bisecting his face, running down into his collar, but then she'd only seen him on stage, and he'd probably been wearing layers of makeup._

_“People, this is Ben Solo, Leia’s son.”_

 

* * *

 

She has no time to think as they clash and push away in a fast-paced sequence of anger and reconciliation. As far as she gets from him, his tethering hold reels her back in, again and again until, on the final iteration, she spins away from him and comes to a stop, an arm outstretched behind her, leg cocked and arched gracefully to rest her toes on the ground. She feels a throb of anticipation, knowing what’s coming as she waits, her head down and pointing away from him as she listens to the words spilling over them.

 

_I believe it's time, too real to feel_

_So touch me now, touch me now, touch me now_  

 

His fingers glide up her arm, settling lightly on her shoulders, and she can’t repress the shudder that runs through her, closing her eyes tight against the feeling — only to pop them open again at the feel of his hand sliding around her waist to press against her stomach. Even though it’s part of the choreography, she can’t help her gasp when she’s pulled back against him, his hand taking hold of hers again. 

It’s like the song around her and the feeling under his touch are all swirling in a heady mix, one mirrored by the way he takes control of her and leads her in a tight spiral across the floor, her back plastered to his front.

 

* * *

 

_Rey sat quietly, flipping through a magazine as she listened to Poe ranting about Kylo… no… Ben Solo. She felt a pang when she remembered how captivating his dance had been when she’d first seen him. And yet, if what everyone was saying was true… the anger management issues, a complete disdain for other dancers, loud arguments with his mother (he used to dance competitively for Rebel before The First Order), and the louder-still fallout with his father, the defection to Snoke’s studio of cut-throat competitive dancers_ . _Then, all the run-ins with Poe and Finn and even Cassian…_  

_Only to have the nerve to come waltzing back in and expecting to be treated like studio royalty!_

_She couldn’t imagine anyone picking a fight with Cassian of all people_ — _the even-tempered, intense nature of the man didn’t seem flappable. Despite herself, Rey felt a spear of resentment towards Ben for throwing away a loving family and supportive friends just to pursue what she saw as a purely selfish goal. Competition dancers, in her experience, only ever cared about themselves. That wasn’t what she was here for_ — _she’d rather be able to teach people and share her choreographies with an audience for the joy of it. They couldn’t be more different people, and she decided that she didn’t want to have anything to do with Ben Solo._

_It was a decision that was taken out of her hands when she walked out of Cassian’s office one afternoon to see Finn and Ben facing off in the middle of the corridor, the latter sneering down at the former. As Rey looped an arm around her brother and made to pull him away, Ben laughed, a harsh bark. “That’s right, let her rescue you. It won’t change anything about your lack of talent.”_  

_“What the hell is your problem?” Rey rounded furiously on Ben, stepping close to glare up at him, cutting Finn’s angered response off with a slash of her hand._  

_“My problem, little girl, is that your friend here is a waste of time. I am not here to pick up after inferior dancers, even if they’re fucking a choreographer.” He looked her up and down, disdainfully, before he spat, “Especially if they are.”_

_Whatever he was going to say next went unheard as Rey’s hand cracked against his cheek in a loud slap. Ben stood stunned, holding his face and staring after them as Finn dragged a spitting Rey away._

 

* * *

 

Gripping his fingers, she steps away and back as he twists till she is tucked in against his right side, his hand hot and heavy against her hip as he leads her in a series of half turns, their hips scribing lazy circles as they do. The sensation is electric, especially being pressed up as close as she is. When he snaps her out and back in, facing him this time, her hold on his shoulder is not as light as it should be. 

His hand snaking up between her shoulder blades feels possessive, as does the little tug he gives her hand as they smoothly transition to a cheeky three-beat cha cha with a sit dip at the end that leaves her arms clutching his shoulders. He supports almost her entire weight, holding her slung across and over his leg, as he stares down at her, a look of heat-tinged awe written across his face. 

 

_Have I doubt when I'm alone_

_Love is a ring, the telephone_

_Love is an angel disguised as lust_

 

* * *

 

_”No! Absolutely not!” Rey shook her head, obstinately, arms crossed in buffer against what Cassian was asking of her. “I am not dancing with him. Find someone else, or drop my piece.”_

_As if she would ever let him close enough to touch her, especially in the kind of intimate proximity this set required. What it demanded._  

_In the days after the incident, Ben had tried to approach her_ — _to speak to her_ — _but she had resolutely ignored him, spinning on her heel to walk away whenever he neared her. The coldness was evident, especially given the close group that managed everything across the studio, but Rey couldn't find it in herself to be civil to someone so… hateful._

_Cassian gave her a long, measured look, before sighing. "Think about it Rey, this is a huge opportunity to showcase what you're capable of, and it seems petty to throw it away over a clash of personality."_

_As Rey furiously opened her mouth, he raised a hand to still her words. "I know Ben is not the easiest person to work with, but he is a brilliant dancer and that's all you need to concern yourself with. He doesn't make it easy to like him, but then…" Here, Cassian paused and looked away for a moment, tightening his lips before continuing, "He hasn't had it easy either, no matter what anyone might think. Give the guy a break. He just lost his father."_

_"The father he walked away from and couldn't be bothered to even come see when he was terminally ill? And now he's back to pick things up like nothing happened?" Rey scoffed, swinging away to walk out when Cassian stopped her with a light touch to her arm._

_"I thought you were better than to listen to idle gossip." Rey hadn't expected to feel a prick of shame at the admonishment, even though she did only know his past from scuttlebutt. However, her anger at his behaviour towards Finn and her served to burn the shame away. She turned to look at Cassian, jaw tight._  

_"It's not gossip if it's true, Cass, and he has been just… poisonous to us, especially to Finn, since he got here. I don't like him. I don't trust him. And I can't dance this with someone I don't trust_ — _you know that better than anyone."_  

_Scrubbing a hand over his face, Cassian gave her an unreadable look before acquiescing, albeit with a parting shot: "Don't believe everything you hear, Rey. There's a lot you don't know. We'll figure something else out for the exhibition piece."_

_Walking out of his office Rey stopped short at seeing Ben leaning against the wall outside, frowning at his shoes in stern contemplation. For a moment, she felt that same prick of shame, at being caught out, but pushed past it. As she set her mouth in a determined line and made to step past him, head held high, Ben raised his to fix her with an inscrutable look that nonetheless took her breath away with its intensity._  

_Jerking her head forward, Rey marched away from him, trying to school her racing heartbeat. So what if he'd quite possibly heard her exchange with Cassian? She had nothing to be ashamed of or sorry for - she'd only spoken the truth. He'd made his bed and could lie in it._  

_Unbidden, a mental image rose of Ben gracefully stretched out on a bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he looked at her with that same intense gaze she'd walked away from._

 

* * *

 

She expertly swivels, her feet tapping in quick steps before she flicks her foot behind her, arching backwards to meet her heel. His grip is sure as he holds her up, his hands taking her weight as he leans her away from him _—_ this is a dancer’s version of a trust fall and she knows that he has her. That she’s safe with him. An odd exhilaration fills her as she snaps back up and they prepare to traverse the floor in criss-cross bota fogos, their eyes catching on each other, their hold light as their feet flick and hips twist in sinuous coordination. His touch is warm, electric, and it grounds her in a way she’s never expected. 

All thoughts wipe out of her mind as they move into the next portion of the dance —  she knows this is only choreography, and yet, yet… being held close to him, as she winds her arms around his neck in time to him ducking to trace his face a scant hairsbreadth away from her skin… there’s an awareness of every molecule of air surrounding her, charged by his presence. This is a whole different feel from dancing the set with Cassian. 

 

_The way I feel under your command_

_Take my hand as the sun descends_

 

* * *

 

_Rey shrank back from the two half-drunk, leering oafs who blocked her way as she tried to make her way from the bar to the table by the dancefloor. Normally, she would have pushed past them but not when she was two drinks in and juggling a tray of tequila shots with both hands._  

_“Hey, isn’t this one of those Rebels? Looks like all she’s good for is working in a bar!” the red-head with the ugly sneer tossed at his friend. That’s when it hit her —  they were First Order scum. She now remembered seeing that shock of red hair topping a beanpole of a dancer on stage. Before Rey could let her natural indignation overtake her good sense, a tall presence stepped up next to her._

_“Here, let me take that.” Ben said quietly, as he divested her of the array of shot glasses, holding the tray easily in his massive hands — why was she focused on the size of his hands, when she should have been wondering what the hell he was doing? He turned to face what must have been his former teammates._  

_Taking a half step to place her behind him, he growled at the two of them, “Back off, Hux. She’s with me.” His voice was both unforgivingly cold and hot as hell at the same time. Maybe this was what hell freezing over sounded like; the thought ran through her head as she watched tensely._

_Hux looked both Ben and Rey up and down before turning away with another sneer. “You were always only good for slumming, Ren. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”_  

_Rey could feel Ben vibrating next to her, his body thrumming with anger barely held in check. Not knowing why she cared, she put a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him from reacting. Instantly, she felt him loose a breath and the tightness drain away. Still, he stood staring after them, his body angled towards hers. When they disappeared into the crowd in the club he turned to her, his face passive, eyes inscrutable._

_It was unfathomable to her why he stepped in when he could have just left her to their devices. Before she could ask him anything, though, he raised the tray he had deftly taken from her._

_“Where did you want these?”_

_As though the past few weeks had never happened, she found herself bemusedly walking back to her table with Ben in tow, only stopping short when she found Finn and Poe nowhere in sight._  

_Freeing his hands, Ben looked around them before sighing and turning towards her, “Where the hell are your friends, and why do they have you lugging their drinks around?”_  

_Just like that, her irritation was back, making her square her shoulders and glare at up at him. How dare Ben disparage her brother, especially when he wasn’t around!_  

_“Look, Solo, I didn’t ask you to butt in to help me with your damned friends, or to comment on mine. So why don’t you just get lost before you harsh my buzz?” A part of her knew she was being rude, very rude, but she shrugged it off. She didn’t like how unsettled he was making her feel, she needed to be back in control of hating him just the way he deserved._  

_Again the long inscrutable look that, if Rey was being honest with herself, seemed to say more than it hid. Only she had no interest in reading what was written there. Only in finding her brother and continuing what should have been a Friday night's celebration of him and Poe finally getting together._  

_With a curt nod, Ben stepped back from her and walked way. She certainly didn’t watch him go, and her eyes certainly didn’t linger on the breadth of his shoulders or how they made the shirt strain against him._

 

* * *

 

His hand skims down the length of her leg before hooking under her knee and slipping it over his powerful thigh as he dips them towards the floor. She drops her head back in smooth coordination, letting him move her as he has to, trying not to lose herself in the feel of his hand splayed against her knee and thigh, brand-hot against her bare skin. There's an irrational urge to press up against the tree trunk slotted between her legs but sanity prevails just in time. Catching herself before she does, she lets her limbs move in time to the changing music, snapping off him and around to run her hands over his shoulders. At least, here he won't see the furious burning in her cheeks, the scant moments before the quick ball change and swivel enough for her to start calming down.

 

_Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe_

_Love is a banquet on which we feed_

 

* * *

 

_“Good morning, Sunshine!” Jyn sounded entirely too amused and happy and loud for Rey’s comfort. With an incoherent mumble, she squinted up at her foster sister—Jyn had aged out the system years before Finn and she had, and had been there to help them when their time finally came—before shuffling to the kitchen island and slumping against it._  

_“You’re very quiet this morning, unlike when you came in with Ben last night.” The little chuckle that accompanied that earth-stopping statement sent a bucket of ice slithering down Rey’s spine. She slowly raised her head to stare at Jyn, willing her to have meant anything but what Rey thought she’d heard._  

_“What? You don’t remember?” Jyn cocked an eyebrow at Rey and grinned wickedly when the latter mutely shook her head._  

_“So, nothing at all about waxing eloquent about 'how strong' he was? And 'why was he being nice to you', and 'why did he have such beautiful eyes'? Or 'dammit what did he want from you'? And...”_  

_The horrors just continued to pile as Rey sank her head into her hands, clutching at her hair. The resulting pain was enough to distract her from her hangover._

_Seeming to finally take pity on her, Jyn slid over a glass of water and an aspirin, before following it up with a plate heaped with eggs made just the way Rey liked them._  

_“What the hell happened, last night, Jyn? Did I…? Did we…?” Rey stopped, unable to continue, pressing a hand to her lips as her voice wavered._  

_“Hey, hey… it’s okay. Far as I could tell, he was an absolute gentleman with you. Despite everything you were saying to him. And even after you’d apparently thrown up on him as he was helping you home from the bender you lot went on last night. I have no idea where the hell Finn is, which is a whole different thing. That boy should have had the sense to make sure you got home safe!”_

_“Wait, back up... I threw up on Ben Solo?!” Rey clapped a hand to her mouth as she stared at Jyn in horror._

_Nodding, Jyn loaded her own plate and joined Rey at the counter. “Oh yes, and the boy not only hauled your drunk ass home, he also helped me get you washed up and carried you up to your room. I was all for leaving you on the couch, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”_

_The sound that issued from behind Rey’s fingers was neither a groan nor a moan, but it did sufficiently communicate the state of her anguished soul._  

_“Why would he do that? We hate each other’s guts!”_

_Humming around her bite of eggs, Jyn swallowed before speaking, “Hate is a very strong word. And he didn’t look like he hates you. Quite the opposite in fact.” Pausing, she smiled in recollection, her eyes distant for a moment. “Ben said you were adorable when you were drunk and not trying to take a bite out of him.”_

_Wait, what?_  

_Straightening, Jyn pointing her fork at her sister. “That boy is gone for you, Rey_ — _you mark my words, you two are going to end up together. And I mean, like, long term. Unless you screw it up, that is.”_  

_Rey stared from behind her hands that were still clasped to her mouth, shaking her head in denial. Jyn had no idea what she was talking about_ — _this was Ben bloody Solo. There was no way he was... was he? Suddenly all she could see were those long looks he’d taken to giving her, the times he tried to talk to her and she’d cut him off angrily. Come to think of it, after she’d slapped him, she’d never seen him be nasty. Not that she’d paid attention at the time._  

_Not realizing the crisis of self her words had thrown Rey into, Jyn continued eating and talking, “I know folks tend to focus on his history, but that boy has been through so much, he deserves some love, some happiness.”_  

_This snapped Rey out of her gyre of thought_ — _for Jyn of all people to stand testimony to Ben, this needed answers.  “Wait, what do you mean?”_  

_“The accident, losing his father, Snok-”_  

_“What accident?”_  

_Jyn stared at Rey, her fork suspended in midair, eggs forgotten for a beat before she breathed, “You don’t know!”_

 

* * *

 

Waiting, poised and ready, for the progression of music to mark her start, she watches him as intently as he focuses on her, both of them canted towards the other from across the span of the dancefloor. As the piano keys change tempo, she races towards him, an odd sense of inevitability keeping time with her as she expertly launches herself into his waiting hands. He doesn’t disappoint, his grip welcoming, firm and sure, as he sweeps her up and above him in a lift to rival any she’s been subject to. Never has she felt like she’s just a feather for her partner to cradle to the skies, his arms straight and strong under her, hands wrapped firmly around her middle. She lets her own sweep out and up, holding position for the length of a beat, before placing her hands on his ready shoulders and letting her feet arch groundwards.

It isn’t gravity that arrests her descent, but his hands as they slowly lower her. She’s sure they’re moving slower than the choreography calls for, but she can’t find it in herself to care as she slips down the length of his body, slowly, oh so slowly, while their eyes remain caught. As she comes face to face with him, her feet still off the ground, her breath catches as his eyes dip to her lips and flit back up, the inscrutable orbs now burning into her. She can’t help it - her hands slip up from the breadth of his shoulders to cradle his head as he continues to lower her gently, letting her breasts skim down his hard chest, jolting her as her thighs skim something else that’s even harder. As her feet settle on the ground—the blood thundering in her ears almost drowning out the singer’s crooning—he sinks to his knees and presses his face to her stomach as she arches against him, still held in his strong hands.

 

_Love is an angel disguised as lust_

_Here in our bed until the morning comes..._

_...Take my hand as the sun descends_

_They can't touch you now,_

_Can't touch you now, can't touch you now_

 

* * *

 

_Rey had no idea how she found her way to the studio later that day, apparently having gotten there on autopilot while her thoughts whirled and twisted dizzyingly within her head. After Jyn's revelations—how had she never realized her foster sister and Cassian were close?!—she had been unable to sit still, felt unable to live with herself if she went another moment without talking to Ben. Cassian had finally relented unwillingly, given their last exchange regarding Ben, and told her where she could find him on the weekend. She should have guessed he would be at Rebel. If she had stopped to think of it, she would have realized she'd never seen him do anything beyond work and dance and work and dance._

_Except when he'd shown up at the club the night before._  

_Quietly letting herself in, the door being unlocked, she paused before turning to secure it behind her. Rey had no idea what was about to transpire, but she knew she didn't want any interruptions. And somehow she knew he would prefer it if they were alone._  

_As she stepped into the studio itself, silent as she was, Ben whipped around from where he was stretching against the barre to stare at her. Rey stopped short, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs as she stared back at him, losing herself in the intensity of his eyes. Almost forgetting why she was there. She took a tentative step forward, not missing the way his hand tightened on the barre, his knuckles whitening as he watched her warily._  

_Of course, he would be wary. When had any of them ever given him a chance, she acknowledged sorrowfully as she slowly closed the distance between them, stopping when she was a few feet away._

_Before she could say anything, he cleared his throat and turned away from her, reaching for the towel he'd slung on the end of the barre, and wiping his face with it. Whatever he said was muffled by his scrubbing._

_"What?" Her voice felt rusty, her throat tight._  

_"What are you doing here?" His voice was odd; she knew that even if she'd only heard him speak a handful of times._  

_"I… I wanted to thank you for last night." She took a deep breath and pushed on, "And to apologize. Ben, I'm so sorry."_  

_There was a silent pause as she watched him, seeing his back flex as he tightened his hold on the towel, but made no other move._  

_"Ben? Coul-"_  

_"I should be apologizing for the shit I said to you. Why are YOU sorry?" His voice sounded strained, where she'd expected anger._  

_"For everything, for always being so mean and short with you, for jumping to conclusions about you, for… for never giving you a chance. We were all holding on to the past, to what we thought we knew of you from The First Order." She spoke softly, her voice wavering, "We didn't know, Ben. I didn't know. I never realized how you got that scar."_

_Ben stood with his head bowed, but she could see the slight tremor that ran across his broad shoulders before they slumped, as though bowing under a weight._  

_Before she knew it, Rey had stepped up to him and pressed a hand to his arm._  

_As though she'd unwittingly pressed the release, the words tumbled out of him in a harsh whisper:"They wouldn't let me go, when I found out. Snoke forbade me to go see Ha-, my father. Said he would pull me from the championship performance if I did. But I had to, how could I not?" Ben's fist clenched around the towel, twisting it between his fingers as he spoke, "I never saw that truck coming, I have no recollection of what happened. When I woke up-"_  

_Ben stopped to gulp, breathing hard. Smoothing her hand against his bicep, Rey shushed him in a low tone, "Shh… it's okay, Ben, it's okay. You don't have to tell me."_

_She already knew, having barely been able to restrain her tears when Jyn had told her._  

_Shaking his head quickly, Ben brought a hand up to wrap around hers. "He was gone, Rey. He died while they had me in surgery. I never got to see him, to say goodbye. To tell him how sorry I am_ \- _what a pathetic excuse for a son I am." His fingers tightened around Rey's, gripping them as his voice cracked._  

_Lowering her forehead to his arm, Rey struggled to keep from crying. To think of Ben dealing with all this, behind that facade. For someone who had never known her parents, this seemed even more cruel_ — _to be denied the opportunity to reconcile with a father who loved you. To never be able to set things right._

_Only… that was what Ben was trying to do, wasn't it? He was here, working at his mother's studio, trying to rebuild something that had been broken, even when shunned by and isolated from his peers. It was high time he had help - there was no reason for him to go through this alone._   _Not any more._

_Threading her fingers with his, Rey stepped back, turning to walk towards the other side of the dance floor as she drew him along behind her._

_As she switched on the music system and flipped through the collection of music CDs cut for performances, she spared a glance to see Ben frowning at her quizzically, his eyes drifting down to the hand still wrapped in hers. Finding the music she wanted, she slotted the CD in and keyed it to the song she was looking for and turned to Ben, squeezing his fingers before letting go._  

_When the first strains of the piano composition for her Latin piece filled the air, and he registered what was playing, his eyes widened in stunned realization._

_Backing away from him, Rey held a hand out, palm up, as she asked, cheeks flushed red, head held high, "Will you dance this with me?"_

 

* * *

 

 

_Because the night belongs to lovers_

_Because the night belongs to lust_

_Because the night belongs to lovers_

_Because the night belongs to us_

 

She looks down at where he's still on his knees in front of her, the choreography forgotten for a moment as they both lose themselves in each other's gaze. Her thumbs smooth against his jaw as she cradles his head. He closes his eyes, freeing her for a scant moment, before he steals the air from her by drawing a hand forward to press against his unmarred cheek and lean into it. Something in her breaks then, desperately needing to show him that the scar doesn't matter. Not to her. 

Gently, she floats her fingers down over his brow, his nose, his cheek, pausing to ghost over his lips before she traces the still-healing line down his throat and neck. When she looks back up, his eyes are open, shocked. Cupping his beautiful face she leans down to press her forehead to his, just as he asks her, softly, "Why?" 

"Because you aren't alone. Not any more." She's never opened herself up in this way before, never been more vulnerable. She's sure, though, that her willingness to trust him is not misplaced. 

He doesn't disappoint as in one swift, sure, move he gains his feet and clasps her to him in a closed starting position, his eyes burning into hers as he promises, "Neither are you." 

Hooking the next beat with ease just as the music changes, as though hopping onto a running vehicle, he twirls her across the floor in fast circles, the centripetal force of the sequence keeping them plastered to each other as they spin about their own orbit. She can't take her eyes off of him, and she's sure her breathlessness is from more than just the demands of the dance, her emotions soaring along with the music. His eyes are glittering, dark and swirling like the best whiskey. If it was possible to feel drunk on a person's presence alone, then she's flying high as a kite, her body both as light as a cloud and as heavy as the most languid of syrups, pulling earthwards. 

Abruptly, he crashes to a halt against the mirrored wall, clutching her to him as he stops dancing, letting the music continue its sensual progress as he draws her inexorably closer to him, eradicating any possible gaps there may have been between them. 

Wide-eyed, and yet ready, she stares up at him, eyes flicking down to his mouth where his plush lips are being wetted by the tip of his tongue. Mesmerized, she doesn't realize she's threaded a hand through his hair, tugging him closer until she feels his breath sawing harshly across her lips, keeping time with her own exertion.

"Are you sure?" She almost misses the question as absorbed as she is in the sensation of holding— _being held by_ —him. 

Her eyes soften as they search his face, seeing the anticipation tight across his features and yet, tempered by a touch of wariness.

Closing the distance between them, she swallows his gasp of surprise as she decides to show him in action what she isn't sure he'll believe in words. 

Kissing Ben is like coming home— _her home_ —and every bit as electric as dancing with him. Rey lets her lips do the talking, losing herself in him until he's kissing her back, holding her close as she shows him what she means beyond a doubt. 

She's never been more sure of anything else.

 

_Because tonight there are two lovers_

_If we believe in the night we trust_

_Because tonight there are two lovers_

_Because the night belongs to lust_

_Because the night belongs to lovers_

_Because the night belongs to us_

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Big Love 
> 
> to Trish and Semperfidani for betaing this and keeping me honest!
> 
> to [Izzy](https://twitter.com/Mowsyling?s=09) for the sweet scar manip for my moodboard!
> 
> to [Ferasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferasha/pseuds/Ferasha)... for you-know-what 😉 and for letting me use it here 💙
> 
> If you liked this, pls leave me a comment! Or come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WrenTaz?s=09) or [Tumblr](https://tazwren.tumblr.com/)


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